Starring: Helen Mirren, Christopher Plummer, James McAvoy, and Paul Giamatti
Rated:R for a scene of sexuality/nudity
According to the movie The Last Station, Leo Tolstoy was even more interesting than I imagined; while considered a great leader in social movements and avoiding pleasures in life, it appears that Tolstoy never (or rarely) practiced what he preached; his idealism never affected his reality. The movie focuses on Valentin (Jame McAvoy), a more devout follower of Tolstoy’s beliefs than Tolstoy, himself. Through his strict obedience, Valentin quickly rises to the position of one of Tolstoy’s (Christopher Plummer) assistants. He suddenly realizes that his position puts him in the middle between the two competing parties in Tolstoy’s life; his friend Vladimir (Paul Giamatti), who is building social change off of Tolstoy’s life and works, and Tolstoy’s wife, Sofya (Helen Mirren), who just wants to live a romantic life with Tolstoy. While the plot takes several twists and turns, putting Valentin in impossible circumstances emotionally, a few things stood out. The first was how confusingly understandable Valentin, Tolstoy, and Sofya were, despite their ever changing positions and characters. They were incredibly relatable in their confusion. They are strong, then suddenly weak. Powerful, then clumsy. Passionate, then tormented. A very real and relatable portrayal of the human experience, we are equally consistent and unreliable. However, the second thing I noticed was how, in the end, they find satisfaction and stability in the love and relationships of others. While there is a certain truth to it, to find satisfaction in the very relationships that caused the problems to begin with seems slight confusing; Sofya is tormented by her relationship with Tolstoy, yet she seems to find peace in turning to him. Perhaps it was alluding to the need of redemption in their relationships, yet it is still confusing to preach a message of how love makes life worth living when it was the center of the problems. Again, there is some truth to it, but I’m afraid the warmth the ending brings may be more so romanticism than reality. The Last Station is good (and a few nudie scenes away from being relatively clean), but one has to wonder if it’s yet another example of Tolstoy’s idealism of love rather than it’s reality.
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